Sometimes I Wish for Falling
by Personne Ne S'en Soucie
Summary: When Kendall seeks help for his addiction to cutting, he's not expecting to meet Logan Mitchell, a gorgeous and successful businessman who is NOT addicted to his work. Not even a little bit. Not at all.
1. Chapter 1

It takes Kendall a long time to step into the room.

He's pretty sure the woman with the red hair, the one talking about addiction, noticed him a long time before he felt like being noticed. If she did, she doesn't say anything, merely smiles, "Take a seat." She gestures to the circle of chairs, a good many of them full, but a good many of them empty as well. Kendall picks one beside a blonde girl who's smoothing her skirt and looking down as if she's nervous.

"I was just getting to the good part," The woman says, "I'm Sherry."

"Kendall." He answers and smiles back at her, although it's hard to, "Glad I made it." He tries to sound casual, but his heart is hammering in his chest. A few people look at him curiously, sizing him up, as if they can guess what's wrong just by appearance. He sticks his hands under his thighs and continues to watch Sherry, because he's not going to let himself be bothered by a few people making assumptions.

"As I was saying," Sherry turns back to the group as a whole, "I found a support group a lot like this one and got help, a lot of help, and that experience was what made me decide to start a support group of my own." She smiles and doesn't even look ashamed that she was once an addict too, "I've never been happier." She declares sincerely. Kendall smiles and pulls his hands free so he can clap with everyone else. He's disappointed that he seemed to have missed the important details, i.e. Sherry's addiction, but it was hard enough getting to the meeting late. He can't imagine getting there on time.

And besides, he'll have time to ask her later.

Getting better _is _all about learning after all.

"Now," Sherry says briskly and leans back in her chair, "I'm sure you're all wondering about the content of this group. I mean, the people."

Everyone nods, because it's true that the content is a little odd. Kendall's never been to a support group before, but even he's certain that they're not supposed to be so diverse. There are different groups for different things, things like sex addicts and drug addicts, everyone has their own support group. But not everyone here is addicted to the same thing, he can already tell, because some of them have the teeth of smokers while others have the look of heroin or coke addicts. Aside from that, there's a guy who's eying everyone with a slightly predatory look, much like he's planning on ravaging them all. Kendall can only guess he's a sex addict. Why all the different people?

"When I was addicted, I went to a support group in a small church like this one," Sherry answers the question with a soft smile, "I had the best leader and the best people," She looks at them all in turn, as if she's sizing them up, "I don't like exclusive groups," She says, "I want us all to see every side of addiction possible."

"Addiction isn't a one sided thing," She says pointedly, "It's a many headed monster and that monster is looking in a bunch of fun house mirrors that are turning it into something else."

Her analogy, oddly enough, makes sense.

"What you see when you look in the mirror is a nicotine addiction, or an alcohol addiction, but what you might not see is a gambling addiction. Drug addicts can't understand the temptation of internet addiction, but in that same way, they can understand addiction." She shakes her head, "I mean, we can all see each other as addicts, but we can't see addictions as addictions unless they're our own, understand?"

No, Kendall thinks, but then again he kind if does.

"I like being diverse because we can help each other more when we're not being tempted by the same thing. A coke addict helping a coke addict, well, that's like a blind man leading another blind man through a forest. A coke addict helping a _porn _addict has a better success rate. In my opinion." She adds almost as an afterthought and leans forward in her chair, "That's why I like diversity; because we can help more when we're not distracted."

The room goes quiet as people take a moment to think about the words, roll them over and over until they make sense, and Sherry leans back in her chair. She gives them a few minutes to take it in, watching them all with a smile and a satisfied expression. It's clear she's doing what she wants with her life, even if she's not getting paid for it. Kendall can only vaguely understand her love of the job, even though he's a caring person. It just doesn't seem like a very rewarding job, especially if all of your addicts fail, or maybe only one of them doesn't.

The girl beside him has stopped twisting her skirt, "Do you know what time it is?" She asks politely and Kendall glances down at his watch.

"It's seven." He says back and she smiles at him. The guy with the predatory look watches them closely, like he's jealous or just really interested in what's going to happen. Kendall tries to ignore him because, even as one addict to another, the guy freaks him out a little bit.

"Thanks."

Sherry seems to have noted the sudden fall of thinking and rise of conversation, because she clears her throat and gains everyone's attention again, "Let's introduce ourselves." She says and motions to the guy with the predatory look, who merely blinks back at her and doesn't say anything, "Say your name, addiction, and how long you've been addicted." She says coaxingly and the guy rolls his eyes. Kendall begins to hate him.

"Jett." He says curtly, "Sex addict." A small, satisfied grin, "Since I was thirteen." It's clear he's sparing them all the dirty details, which Kendall is more than a little thankful for. He doesn't want to hear about Jett's sex life anymore than he wants to hear about his grandparents'. Sherry smiles and welcomes Jett to the group, telling him he's doing the right thing by seeking help. Kendall tunes her out as she moves on to the next person, and the next, and the next.

He catches bits and pieces, some names and some addictions, gathering that there are a good many smokers and one video game addict.

There's another sex addict.

There's a food addict.

When it's his turn he opens his mouth, wondering how best to begin, but suddenly someone's knocking on the door and all the heads in the room turn towards the source of the disruption. Kendall is taken aback by the figure in the doorway, a well dressed guy about his own age with brown hair and pale skin, who's busy typing away on an iPhone and doesn't seem to care that he's being watched. With an ease like someone used to walking and sitting with their eyes directed at a screen, he finds the empty seat on the right side of Kendall and glances up. Chocolate eyes look both sorry and not sorry at all.

"Am I late?" His cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink, "I didn't mean to be late."

"That's okay," Sherry reassures him, "We're just glad you're here."

The guy smiles back at her and Kendall's heart melts, because this guy is utterly _gorgeous_. He tries to look away, but he can't seem to control himself. He's honestly surprised his jaw hasn't hit the floor. He's also surprised that someone as put together as this guy would be _here _of all places, but then again looks can be deceiving. After all, he likes to think he doesn't look like much of an addict either.

"We were on Kendall," Sherry is explaining to the guy, who's clearly trying to avoid looking at his phone, "So we'll come back to you in a second."

"Okay."

"Kendall?" Sherry looks at him and Kendall has to tear his eyes away from the guy, who is now back on his phone. Kendall finds this rude, but this _is _an addict's meeting, so he can't really say it's not expected.

"I'm Kendall," He says and his fingers drum on his thigh, "I've been addicted to cutting since my dad left seven years ago." He finishes and doesn't look away from Sherry, because he's not going to look weak. Sure, it's affected him a lot, but it's not like he's any more ashamed of it than Sherry was of her addiction. At this point, he's desensitized himself to just how the word "cutting" sounds when it rolls off your tongue.

"Nice to meet you, Kendall," Sherry gives him a genuine smile, soft and warm, "I'm glad you could make it."

"Yeah, me too." He agrees and the guy looks up, not really surprised that it's his turn, so he must have been paying attention, however little.

"Logan." He says, glancing down at his shoes, "This wasn't my idea." He defends himself, almost petulantly, but with enough force to make it sound like he honestly doesn't know why he's in an orange, plastic chair in a small church with a bunch of addicts and a woman with red hair. His iPhone vibrates and he glances down at it, "It was my friend's."

"Why did your friend think this would be a good idea?" Sherry presses gently.

Logan looks back up at her, pink back in his cheeks, "He thinks I'm addicted to work."

"Well," Sherry says simply, "Are you?"

"No." Logan states vehemently, then drops his eyes back to his phone, "I am not."

"Who's that?"

"What?"

"On your phone." Sherry tilts her head towards the iPhone and Logan looks confused, "Is that your friend?"

"No." Logan says, like it's an odd question to ask, "This is my boss."

And maybe he realizes how bad it sounds, because he winces and looks back down at his shoes, "This wasn't my idea." He repeats miserably and Sherry smiles sympathetically. Instead of interrogating Logan further, she moves on to the next person. The girl beside Kendall looks up and rolls her eyes towards the ceiling.

"My name is Jo and I'm addicted to smoking."

"Nice to meet you Jo," Sherry says, "It's good that you're seeking help."

Beside Kendall, Logan's phone vibrates.


	2. Chapter 2

It's nearing eleven when Logan's office phone rings.

Instinctively, he presses the receiver to his ear, only coming to his senses when he hears a heavy sigh on the other end. He should have realized it was Carlos, since Carlos is the only one who _ever _calls his office phone past seven. And he only ever calls to tell Logan he shouldn't still be at the office.

"Logan," Carlos says in that tired, almost condescending way, "Tell me you aren't still at the office." Logan rolls his eyes, because _obviously _he's still at the office. Of course Carlos knows he's still at the office, because the only reason Carlos ever calls the office phone is so he can confirm that Logan is still at the office and then bitch at him. Carlos is the main contributor to Logan's stress levels, and will most likely be the reason Logan dies of a stress induced heart attack in his early fifties.

He's also Logan's best friend, although that fact is being reconsidered more and more often lately.

"I answered the office phone," Logan says in response, "Clearly I'm still at the office." He doesn't try to hide the fact that he's annoyed, because he's told Carlos a million times not to call him when he's working. Carlos always argues that he never stops working, which only goes to show how lazy Carlos is and how un-lazy Logan is. If Carlos worked half as hard as Logan, he wouldn't have the time to check up on Logan in the first place.

"Logan," Carlos begins, "You should-"

"Save it." Logan cuts him off, "I'm not in the mood." He taps his pen against his desk, something he does when he's agitated, nervous, or both, and waits for Carlos to change the subject. If he's lucky, Carlos will mention his weekend plans, or something equally as mind numbing, and he can work without having to listen. If he's not lucky, which he generally never is, Carlos will mention the-

"How did the meeting go?"

Dammit.

"As expected." Logan says curtly and the pen stops, mid-bounce, as he sighs, "You know, a bunch of addicts talking about addiction. There was a sex addict there." He adds as an afterthought and can practically feel Carlos' curiosity. He's nothing if not easily distracted.

"You can be addicted to sex?" Carlos sounds incredulous.

"You can be addicted to anything, Carlos." Logan reminds him, "Addiction is a state of mind." At least, he thinks you can be addicted to anything. It's not like he's spent his life trying to understand addiction. Sure, he knows the basics, but he doesn't know much more than that. And he doesn't plan to.

"Like work?" Carlos says pointedly.

"Yes," Logan agrees tiredly, "Like work."

"Did you meet anyone nice?" Only Carlos would be concerned about making friends. Logan considers, briefly, how Carlos would do in an addict's meeting. More than likely, he would have all the people laughing and feeling better about themselves in no time. It's just something Carlos can do. Logan has never envied him that talent, mainly because he's not a big people person himself. He's always been somewhat of a loner, except for Carlos.

Although, he found himself drawn to the cutter.

Kendall.

There's no doubt in his mind that Kendall was attractive. Attractive and, better yet, he didn't seem to be judging anyone. When he had looked at Logan, there had been a slight bit of curiosity, but mostly there had just been good nature. Kendall had seemed nice, genuinely nice, and that had struck Logan as something both odd and extremely valuable. If he were planning on going to the next meeting, it would have been because of Kendall.

"Logan?" Carlos sounds concerned, "You're not ignoring me, are you?"

"What?" Logan pulls his mind away from Kendall and focuses back on Carlos, "No, sorry. I was thinking." Carlos is probably pursing his lips, assuming that Logan was thinking about work, "About someone I met at the meeting." Logan explains hurriedly, defensively, and winces.

"Was she nice?"

"_He _seemed nice."

There's a long pause.

"Logan, are you gay?" Carlos asks suddenly, "You haven't dated anyone, so I don't know, but you can still be gay without ever dating anyone."

"I've dated people!" Logan ignores the question, "Camille!"

"That was in the sixth grade!" Carlos reminds him, "And she doesn't count, because you only dated her to get people to shut up about how you should date her."

"Well, what about you?" Logan demands, "You haven't dated anyone either!"

"Not because I haven't tried." Carlos says, "Have you tried to date anyone in the past few years?" The answer to that is a big, fat no, because Logan doesn't have the time or the patience to date. What's the point? He's never liked the idea of marrying someone just to watch them grow old and die.

"You know my stance on marriage."

"Yeah, on _marriage_." Carlos says exasperatedly, "You don't have to marry someone to date them."

"I don't have time."

"Using work to avoid relationships is a symptom of work addiction." Carlos rattles off and Logan feels his cheeks heat up at the accusation, because there's no way he's using work to avoid _dating_. That's ridiculous! And the fact that Carlos is the one telling him this just makes it worse. Carlos is supposed to be his goddamn _friend_.

"I have to go."

"No!" Carlos says quickly, "Come on, Logan, I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"I'm actually doing something at the moment."

"Yeah, work!" Carlos moves quickly from contrition to exasperation, "Look, maybe this guy will talk to you at the next meeting. You could maybe be his friend." The "or more" is implied.

Oh, did I forget to mention- "I'm not going to the next meeting."

"What do you mean?" Carlos actually sounds hurt, "Logan, this is supposed to help you."

Logan's pen is going a million miles per hour as he thinks of what to say. Carlos seems to be muttering to himself on the other end, and it's clear this is just going to turn into another large argument. As angry as Carlos makes him, Logan hates to fight with the other male. Carlos has been there for him since the first grade. Arguing with Carlos makes Logan feel like he's going to lose him, much like he's lost the few friends he had from college.

It's not anybody's fault, they just all stopped talking.

"I don't need any help, 'Litos."

"According to-"

"The internet." Logan supplies.

"Yeah, according to the internet you have a problem." Carlos plows through Logan's skepticism. It's one of the reasons they get along so well, even though it does have it's downsides. If Carlos listened to Logan's skepticism more often they wouldn't get caught up in half the messes they do.

"You have a problem, Carlos, if you believe everything you read on the internet."

"I don't believe _everything_."

"You believe in aliens."

"Because there's proof that they exist!" Carlos sounds excited, "Trust me, Logan."

"Whatever, not everything you read is true. And besides, studies show that reading about a problem makes you associate that problem with someone in your life. Usually yourself. You read about it and immediately connected it to me, because your mind likes patterns and connections."

"Or because it _is _you." Carlos says wryly and Logan frowns.

"Maybe if you would go to bed at a reasonable hour you wouldn't be up doing internet searches that lead to arguing and assumptions."

"Maybe if you would go to bed at a reasonable hour I wouldn't be assuming."

"I do go to bed at a reasonable hour." Logan defends himself half-heartedly, busy scrolling down on his computer screen. Maybe Carlos gets this, because he makes a frustrated noise on the other end. Logan can sense something major coming up, although he ignores the feeling. It's not like this hasn't happened before.

"Logan, I think you need to go to the next meeting." The "and the next, and the next, and the next" is implied. Logan continues to scroll down, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he can continue to tap his pen as well. The gesture has become more about nerves than agitation now. Something wicked this way comes, he thinks, and shakes the thought from his mind.

"No."

"You have a problem!"

"No I don't."

"Yes you do!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Carlos, stop! You're acting like a five year old!" Logan erupts, "And I'm tired of it!"

"I'm just trying to help!" Carlos fires back, "But I guess that's not important to you!"

"I appreciate your concern, but it's completely unwarranted and, frankly, a little ignorant!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Logan pauses, "Fine what?"

"If you don't want my help, don't take it." Carlos says stiffly, "Don't get help, don't get better, don't do anything you don't want to do." Logan sighs, relieved that Carlos finally understands, but Carlos is quick to continue, "But don't bother considering me a friend until you do."

And then he hangs up.

The silence is unbearable.

Logan pulls the phone from his ear and stares at it, too shocked to fully comprehend what just happened. Sure, Carlos has threatened to unfriend him before, but he's never sounded so serious about it. In fact, he usually apologizes for saying it, because they both know it's completely out of line.

So what now?

He's not going to call Carlos back and beg for forgiveness, because it feels like Carlos is finally off his back. But the problem is that he doesn't want Carlos out of his life _completely_. He just wants Carlos to quit nagging him all the time about his work habits and the fact that he's successful.

The phone is still warm when he places it back in the cradle, pen tapping on his desk, and stares blankly at his laptop. He honestly feels sick, but he's almost done with a major project. If he finishes it tonight he can get started on an even bigger project tomorrow, and just the thought has Carlos fading from his mind. Worse things have happened between them, he reasons, and it's not like losing another friend is a big deal. He is a loner after all.

The keys feel warm and familiar beneath his fingers, just like always, and he's glad he's doing _something_.

He's not addicted to work, not in the slightest.

And he's not going to the next meeting.

Not in a million years, not for a million bucks, and apparently not for the sake of his best friend.

Before long, Carlos is out of his mind completely.


End file.
